


I keep my promises

by Crimson_Voltaire



Series: Kinktober 2017 [13]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Come Inflation, Knotting, M/M, Mentioned Come Inflation, Object Insertion, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 20:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12373521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Voltaire/pseuds/Crimson_Voltaire
Summary: Newt never thought a one off statement would lead to this. But really, he's not complaining.





	I keep my promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kallistob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistob/gifts), [aliaaaaaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/gifts).



> Hi friends, thanks for dropping by. I do believe I promised some people that Newt would stick his wand up Graves' ass, so here it is! Enjoy!

**October 15 th – Object Insertion **

The left hinge on the case squeaks. It draws Newt’s attention away from Dougal’s grooming. _Really must get that fixed_ , Newt thinks, and resumes brushing through the Demiguise’s long, silver-white fur. Familiar footsteps make their way down the ladder and across the shed to stop behind Newt, and then warm lips scrape against his neck, Percival’s nose pressed into the crook of his shoulder.   
  
“Oh, hello,” Newt murmurs. He finds the last snag in Dougal’s coat, sorting through it quickly. The Demiguise’s large amber eyes go blue, before Dougal snorts suddenly, shaking his head and hopping off Newt’s lap. He ambles away without so much as a backwards glance. Newt watches him go with a raised eyebrow, something of a wry smile tugging at his lips.   
  
“Well then.”  
  
Percival chuckles, the sound rumbling through Newt.  
  
“I believe,” he starts when Dougal’s a fair distance away, trailing a lingering kiss along a line underneath Newt’s ear, “That you promised me something the other day. I’d like to have it now.”  
  
Newt stalls for a moment, brain reeling to catch up with the curveball just thrown his way. His brows shoot up into his hairline, face screwing up in confusion for a moment before understanding dawns. Oh. _Oh_.  
  
“You’re serious?”  
  
Newt twists on his stool, so he can get a better look at Greves. Percival’s eyes are wide and dark, filled with lust and a certain vulnerability that has Newt’s heart stuttering. He loves this – loves that Percival trusts him enough to be vulnerable, but it also sends an almost uncomfortable thrill through him. Percival ducks his head a little, a blush growing high in his cheeks.   
  
“Mhmm… If you’re willing?”  
  
Newt pushes himself off the stool – almost too fast. The stool goes wobbling and they both stumble a little, before Percival catches them against the table and manages to keep them mostly upright. Newt doesn’t know what’s got into him in those few seconds between then and now, but he isn’t really complaining. Percival grins into the kiss, fingers twisting in Newt’s loose shirt.  
  
“Should we take this to somewhere more comfortable?” Newt asks against his mouth. Percival hums, like he’s thinking, but that devilish grin is still there. When they pull away for breath, Newt can see the mischief swirling with the lust in his eyes.   
  
“Here’s good,” he breathes. Newt growls, low and long. It’s so provocative – the most delicious vision; Percival bent over his manuscripts, cock leaking, arse spread wide, begging.   
  
“You want that?” Newt asks, “You want me to bend you over my desk and take you? How should I do it, hmm? Do you really want me to shove my wand up your arse? To fuck you with it? Should I enchant it?”  
  
Percival’s breath hitches, his pupils blowing wide. Part of Newt marvels – because Percival really does want this, and never in a million years did Newt think a one off comment would lead to this. He groans, pressing Percival closer to the desk, wrapping his arms around his love and then flipping him over, so Graves’ chest is against ink stained wood. The man gasps and then bucks backwards, grinding his arse into Newt’s groin. It sends tingles of sensation through him, makes him growl again. Then he chuckles darkly, hooking his fingers in Graves’ waistband and yanking. The tight pants get caught on the pert swell of Percival’s bottom, enticing Newt to tug harder. Finally, they come off, and Newt can feast on the sight of those glorious cheeks, still stained with the purple marks he’d left late in the night.   
  
“Fuck, look at you,” Newt groans, “Are you still open? Or did you tighten yourself up with magic, just so I can stretch you wide again?”  
  
Newt parts his cheeks, finding Percival’s hole still loose and pliant. They’d fucked last night, and then Newt took him again this morning before the man left for work. He can imagine the sight – slick and spend dripping from Percival’s fluttering whorl, the way he’d be extra careful sitting down. And then Newt thinks about what’s just ahead, the sounds Percival will make as Newt fucks him with his wand. The Auror writhes beneath his grip, trying to grind backwards. It’s a sight to see.   
  
“Nnghn, don’t tease,” Percival demands. So impatient. Newt chuckles, shaking his head. He withdraws his wand from his pocket, flipping it around so the blunt base presses against Percival’s hole. The man shudders and stills, holding his breath. Newt whispers the slicking spell, directing the flow of his magic over the base of his wand. Then, he pushes home.   
  
Percival’s back arches, hips stuttering like he’s trying to contain himself. Newt grins, and presses a little harder. Then he withdraws it, until only the last inch hovers inside Percival, before shoving back inside. Percival cries out.   
  
“Oh, fuck, _Newt_!”  
  
“Are you liking that, darling? It’s quite a view, I must say.”  
  
Newt makes a gesture – he knows a little wandless magic, and he picked this spell up on his travels. The spell isn’t generally intended for this purpose, but it should work just right. The sound that leaves Percival’s mouth rests somewhere between shock and pleasure. Newt watches as his magic forces Percival’s hole to stretch a little wider around his wand, as if the wand itself is getting larger. It’s a phantom cock of sorts, fucking Greves, and it’s the most wonderful thing Newt has ever seen. He murmurs the spell for more slick, and then repeats the swelling spell.   
  
It’s driving Percival wild. The man bucks and gasps and moans, writhing and all the while trying to press back into Newt’s touch, like a proper slut.   
  
“Look at you,” Newt repeats his earlier statement, “Fucking yourself on my wand, begging for more. Do you want to be filled up, hmm? Until you can’t stretch anymore? Until you’re begging me to stop?”  
  
“Newt! Newt! Ohhh Merlin, Newt! Aghnng! Y-yesss…”  
  
Newt palms at his own groin, undoing his belt and trousers one handed and freeing his cock. He strokes in time to the thrusts of his wand, dragging his hand lazily over his length. The tingling in his belly grows with each passing stroke, and an idea grows with it.   
  
“Hmm, should I come inside you?” He teases, accentuating with a particularly brutal thrust that has Percival careening forward, hips banging hard into the table, “Should I fill you up and then lock my wand inside you? Knot you like an animal until you’re filled up with my pups?”  
  
It’s one off, a shot in the dark, but it makes Percival shout. The sound is ragged and surprised, like Percival himself isn’t expecting to enjoy what Newt’s saying. The magizoologist grins, a little fiendish, and stretches Percival wider still.   
  
“You’d look beautiful, darling, stuffed full. I think your belly would bulge a little, you are so thin. It’d be bound to show.”  
  
Now, Newt’s something of an expert at knowing what Percival sounds like when he’s getting close. The man’s breathing changes, growing in pitch and shallowing out, something caught like he’s straining to get the sound out. Newt acts quickly, removing his wand and shoving his trousers down around his thighs just enough so they don’t get in the way. Just as Percival registers the loss, Newt pushes inside, forcing those velvety walls wide.   
  
“Oh _fuck_!” Percival cries out. Hands scrabble for purchase on the table as Newt’s fingers curl in his hair, yanking his head back and granting Newt leverage to fuck him as he pleases. Graves takes it, moaning like a bitch in heat. It’s absolutely beautiful. The tingling in Newt’s belly develops into an all-out inferno, blazing out of control. He grunts and grits his teeth, jerking his hips up to ram the head of his cock against Percival’s prostate.   
  
“Gonna fill you up,” Newt promises. Percival screams.   
  
Newt isn’t sure who breaks first; it’s just a white rush of noise and pleasure and the feeling of Percival clenching down around him.   
  
When it’s all said and done, Graves shudders and gasps beneath him, moaning weakly with aftershocks. Newt, breathless, releases his rough grip on Percival’s hair and gently lowers his head to the table. He cards his fingers through messy onyx hair and massages his scalp.   
  
“Darling, are you alright?”  
  
Percival groans, “Nnngh… You broke me.”  
  
_He’s alright then_ , Newt thinks. It pulls a small laugh from him. He withdraws and tucks himself back into his trousers, doing the button up just to keep them up, and then spells Percival clean. He knows Percival’s made a mess of his trousers – those will have to go, but he needs to get the man upstairs first.   
  
“C’mon you,” Newt whispers kindly, kissing Percival’s temple and hauling him into his arms, “I think you’re in desperate need of a warm bath and some salve.”  
  
They go up the stairs together, leaving Newt’s wand lying innocently on the floor.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I live off feedback, please leave your thoughts!


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